their soft dreams
by windsilk
Summary: They orbited around each other as though they were planets, getting close, so close, but never touching. But when they did touch, it was like...it was like a supernova. Drabble collection. —Sasuke/Sakura.
1. heavy duty

"_The box said it was impenetrable—" he whined. _

_Collective sigh._

_The clink of ice cubes in an ice pack. _

"_Shut up, Naruto."_

_._

**Heavy Duty**

.

Sigh.

"Naruto, what _are_you wearing?"

He grinned excitedly. "I'm invincible now, Sakura-chan!"

She raised an eyebrow, eyeing the bright orange helmet on his head warily. "Excuse me?"

"See, you _always_ hit me over the head. _Always._So now that I have this helmet, I have nothing to fear!"

There was a beat of silence.

Kakashi's lips, clothed under his ever-present mask, quirked up in amusement. Sasuke smirked from the base of the tree he was sitting on.

Sakura was mentally debating exactly how to react before she patted his helmet-covered head condescendingly and smiled with excessive sugar. "You just keep thinking that."

Naruto nodded firmly, and pushed on.

"SO. I HAVE DECIDED…" he paused for dramatization, "TO DO SOMETHING I HAVE WANTED TO DO MY ENTIRE LIFE."

There was a mutual sigh from everyone as the waited for the likely idiotic spiel to come forth. But instead, Naruto placed his hands on Sakura's shoulders, steering her to stand in front of Sasuke.

Sakura blinked. Sasuke looked nonplussed.

"…uh."

And then with a large grin, he shoved Sakura forward, sending her falling through the air, arms flailing about, to land on top of Sasuke. But instead of his intended effect, her head slammed onto his, leaving them both groaning in pain. With Sakura still on top of Sasuke.

If landing on top of Sasuke with her lips pressed to his would have been awkward, landing on top of him with that plan being a failure and in immense amounts of pain was surely more so.

Slowly, Sakura maneuvered herself off of him with care, being careful not to place her hands in potentially awkward places and hoisted herself up, using his shoulders as leverage. Her fingers gently probed her own impact area on her forehead, upset to find that her fingers came back slick with blood.

Abruptly, Sakura turned, glaring at Naruto. "What. The. _Hell_."

Naruto glanced at the blood momentarily before deducing it wasn't in any way life threatening and grinned, patting his helmet with relief.

She stalked up to him, furious, ripped the helmet off of his head, threw it on the ground and crushed it under her heel before punching him in the jaw, launching him across the field.

Naruto wailed as he landed, skidding across the grass. Gingerly, he picked himself up and frowned. Maybe next time, he'd use something more heavy duty, like steel.

.

"_You know, Naruto's always followed that one motto—"_

"_I know, Kakashi-sensei." _

"_If at first you don't succeed, try, try again." _

_Sigh._

"_I know."_

* * *

><p><strong>hindsight's 2020: **I don't know how much I like this. Naruto's more...I don't know. Not like this. To me, anyways. Ick, out of character. Eh. Whatever.


	2. melody

"_We're made for each other." _

_Contemplative silence._

"_You know, that was pretty good. We should duet. Play it again."_

_Pause. Think._

_Silence._

"_You…don't tell me you forgot what you just played."_

_Sigh. _

"_I take it back. You _were _made for me. I don't know what happened between then and now."_

_Raised eyebrow._

_Laugh._

_._

**Melody**

_._

Her fingers skittered over the keys, sliding and lifting and moving. Her whole frame seemed to sway with the music as if she were dancing in place. Her breaths coincided with the slow, easy pace of the music, her heartbeat the only tempo.

Her feet lifted and fell; her eyes shut.

And he watched.

A small smile quirked at her lips, and she hummed.

And then everything stopped. Her fingers stiffened and reached out frantically to the pencil resting on the edge of the piano, scribbling a few notes down on the piece of notebook paper laying against the black, drawing in the dozen or so quarter notes she had added in, the graphite of her pencil coiling around her fermata.

She fell still, and the smile that was once in place vanished, melting away into a contemplative look. Her fingers returned, played the same set of notes, and then stopped.

Stuck.

The pencil rolled from the precarious place at the edge of the keys onto the bench, landing right beside her.

She let out a small noise of discontentment, chewing on her lip in a frustrated manner. Her fingers tucked nonexistent strands of hair behind her ears—a habit that she had acquired over the years.

Her legs lifted from the floor, crossing on the black glossy bench, and she untied her hair from the sagging bun it was placed in, retying it into a ponytail, higher and tighter.

Her hands fell to her lap, curled naturally.

He walked up behind her and plucked the sheet of paper from its place and the pencil from her side.

Time stopped, and from behind her, his fingers rested on the keys.

The black and white and long fingers merged and somehow weaved together an array of music—her music. He only paused briefly when he reached the place where she had ceased and then continued, meandering his way up the piano effortlessly.

Without his notice, her hands came to rest over his, and his playing slowed to a stop. Her fingers interlaced with his. It was a soft sort of quiet.

Her fingers slipped out of his and she replayed her part, waiting for him to continue as she did—a duet of sorts. And then he interceded, playing a light melody in the back of her more powerful strokes.

And all at once, there was nothing else in the world. Only him and her and the piano.

.

"_You know, you're going to have to do better than that. Hello, I mean it's every girl's cliché dream for someone to write a song about them. You only wrote a few stanzas. You're going to have to do better than that." _

_Disbelieving look._

"_I'm serious. Get going! Here's some paper. And a pencil. Heck, here's a beautiful grand piano."_

_Silence._

"_What are you doing, standing around like that? Come _on. _Time's a-wasting." _

_Silence._

"_And make me a sandwich!" _

_Laugh, chuckle._

* * *

><p><strong>hindsight's 2020: **Okay, this I like. Music's a powerful thing. And pianos...I love pianos. Though I might be biased, since I play it. But still. Pianos are wonderful.


End file.
